The Infancy Equation
by Books In the Blood
Summary: John had always thought he knew the dectective who was his flatmate. He always believed Sherlock to be strong and sometimes cold. When he discovers a secret Sherlock has, he finds out that Sherlock is not the harsh, emotionless man he has always believed him to be and finds that he very much enjoys this part of Sherlock. Note: contains non-sexual age play themes
1. Dummy Discovery

"What are you getting so upset about? Stop being so dramatic, John!" Sherlock spat annoyingly at John, his curls bouncing as his voice rose in argument.

"Dramatic!?" John thundered back, furry filling him. "I could get any number of blood borne pathogens from that!" He pointed to the offending tea pot on the table.

"I told you, didn't I? I told you it had had human blood in it did I not!?" Sherlock argued, pointing to the tea pot.

"Yeah! After I had drunk two cups of tea out of it!" John said, white hot furry flooding through him. It was typical Sherlock to think only of himself and nobody around him.

"Honestly, John, I put bleach in it after I used it" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as if John was being ridiculous.

"Did you even rinse it out?" John blared back. "You told me that stuff at the bottom was water!"

"It was just a little bit!" Sherlock thundered.

"I could die, Sherlock! What the hell are you thinking?" John asked desperately. His stomach was churning…..he was going to be sick.

"Oh, honestly, John…stop being ridiculous!" Sherlock yelled, anger flashing in his eyes.

Their argument was interrupted by a loud banging noise on the floor of their kitchen; Mrs. Hudson, it appeared, was not in favor of their loud arguing at 7am in the morning. Well, that made two of them.

John breathed deeply in an effort to calm himself. "Sherlock, when you use something for one of your _experiments _it can no longer be used for food…..tell me before I use it, not after!"

"I can't be expected to keep you up to date on all of the details of my experiments" Sherlock said haughtily. "Maybe if you were little quicker, you could keep up!"

That was it. "Keep up! Why the bloody hell would I want to keep up with a psychopath like you!?" John asked as loudly as he could. There was another thumping on the floor and kitchen and John sighed. There was absolutely no point in arguing with Sherlock when he got this way. He liked the arguments, like to make John angry. He was just like an overgrown, spoiled child asking for attention.

John turned and left Sherlock in the kitchen to argue with himself. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stood underneath the furious flow trying to calm down.

Things were getting heated and explosive in 221B. It had been three weeks since Sherlock had had a case and he was not handling the situation well. He never handled long periods of boredom well but this time was even worse normal. John would have been bored himself if Sherlock had not been driving him up the wall with everything he said and did. He seemed to be purposely doing things to make John mad. Like 'experimenting' on John's phone until it had exploded and calling him a 'stupid git' when he didn't understand why Sherlock would have put the phone in an open flame. John wasn't sure what was going to happened first; Sherlock was going to catch himself on fire or John was going to murder him with his bare hands. They both desperately needed a case**. Now.**

John stayed in the shower until the water grew cold. He could hear banging coming from the kitchen and he dreaded what he might find in there after leaving Sherlock unattended for so long. Honestly, he was surprised that Sherlock hadn't taken the bathroom door off the hinge while he'd been showering….again.

John dressed and left the bathroom, nearly stumbling into a pile of Sherlock's dirty laundry. "Sherlock! What are your clothes doing in the floor?" John asked irritability.

"Laundry…Mrs. Hudson" Sherlock called out just as annoyed from the kitchen.

John heaved a sigh. "Just because Mrs. Hudson does our laundry, which we are lucky she does, doesn't mean she's going to come pick it up. You have to at least take it down to the washing machine!"

"Dull" was Sherlock's only response.

John fumed; Sherlock's egocentrism and laziness knew no bounds. Annoyed, but knowing he didn't want another argument with Sherlock, John leaned down and gathered the laundry up. He carried it down to the washing machine, giving Sherlock a dark look as he passed him blowing up fruit in the kitchen. John was stuffing Sherlock's clothes into the machine, wondering how his bloody life had taken a turn to this, when something fell out of one of Sherlock's pockets and hit the ground. John looked down at the ground for the lost item, confusion filling him when he saw it. It was a white baby dummy with yellow and black bees on it. John scooped the item up, concern filling him.

John walked back up to the flat, barging into the kitchen where Sherlock currently shoving the microwave full of oranges…..no doubt to blow them up. This was going to be a long day.

"What is this?" John asked, waving the dummy around. Sherlock turned around from his experiment and to face John.

"Oh what do you want n-" Sherlock started in an annoyed tone. When he saw the outstretched item, concern flashed on his eyes behind his goggles before he composed himself.

"That's a dummy, obviously" he said offhandedly.

"Yeah, actually I do know that much" John said. "What was it doing in your clothes?"

Sherlock's eyes traveled from side to side as he paused, obviously looking for an excuse. "That's…..for an experiment" Sherlock said, coughing a bit as if he was uncomfortable. He snatched the dummy from John and stuffed it into his dressing gown pocket.

John's concern increased. "Sherlock…..you're not experimenting on kids or anything like that?" he asked as calmly as he could. He hoped Sherlock hadn't become so bored he was that desperate…..

"No!" Sherlock said, angrily, turning back to stuff the oranges in the microwave. He set the machine for the highest setting possible and stared into it, trying to ignore John.

"So….what was the experiment if it has nothing to do with kids?" John asked, wanting desperately to know what Sherlock was doing with a dummy.

Sherlock's temper had had enough though. "Just drop it!" Sherlock said, whipping around and staring at John with malice in his eyes. "You wouldn't even understand anyway because you're such an idiot!"

John fumed at Sherlock. "Fine…..whatever!" he said, having lost all ability to be around the detective any longer. "I don't have to stand here and take this all day! I'm going out" He turned and left Sherlock in the kitchen as he grabbed his coat. As he stormed out of the flat he could distantly hear the sound of an explosion behind him.

….

John found that a morning out and about, away from Sherlock, was just what he needed to calm down. He'd simply spent too much time with him lately and they both probably needed a break. He was sure that the flat would be a disaster by the time he returned but he didn't worry about it. He went to a café and drank some coffee while he read the paper (completely in peace) before taking a walk through the park, relishing the complete silence of it all. He returned to 221B and had lunch with Mrs. Hudson, surprised to not hear any loud noises coming from above them. Perhaps Sherlock was taking some quiet time as well…not likely but John was hopeful.

After lunch, John returned to the flat with a renewed energy to deal with Sherlock once more, his nerves relaxed and his blood pressure down. He was surprised, but pleasantly so, by the silence of the flat when he entered it. He glanced into the kitchen to see the microwave still wide open, bits of oranges spilling out of it, the whole room smelling of the various fruit splattered around it. Sherlock hadn't cleaned up his mess, but that wasn't surprising. Right now, he appeared to be quietly in his room and John was not going to complain. It was so quiet, maybe he was taking a nap; the big baby needed it, after all.

John sat down on the couch and turned the telly on, flipping through the channels. John had made it completely through one program and was half way through another completely uninterrupted when there was a knock at the door. John walked to the door and opened it, finding a nervous looking skinny young man at the door. "I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes" he said uncertainly.

John didn't relish the idea of disturbing Sherlock when he was being so quiet by himself but if this client could give them a case then he would take the chance. "Alight, sure" John said, "I'm John Watson, come on in and I'll go get him. Have a seat right over here" he said ushering him toward the chair while he walked to Sherlock's room.

"Sherlock…you've got a client" John said as he knocked on Sherlock's door. There was no answer so he knocked harder. There still wasn't a response.

"Sherlock! Client!" John said much louder as he knocked. Still no response. Annoyed that Sherlock was probably ignoring him, he tried the doorknob, happy to find it unlocked.

John had seen many surprising things from Sherlock and so he though there was nothing that Sherlock could do that would surprise him. He found, however, that the sight in front of him now proved him wrong on that point.

Sherlock was lying on his bed, fast asleep on top of the covers in nothing but a t-shirt and pants. The bee covered dummy from earlier was stuffed in his mouth, his hand curled around a tattered, fluffy pastel green blanket that was under his head.

_What the hell….._was the first thought that came to John's head. He rubbed his eyes, sure that he wasn't really seeing Sherlock Holmes asleep _sucking a dummy. _But no matter how many times he looked away and looked back at Sherlock, the image didn't change. What was wrong with him? This was a little bit twisted….a little sick…..maybe more than a little messed up depending on why he was doing this which John had absolutely no explanation for. Why would a grown man be sleeping with a blankie and sucking a dummy? And not just any man, Sherlock Holmes of all people!?

John did not relish the idea of waking Sherlock up. He was no doubt to be embarrassed and angry that John had come in his room unasked but he would be furious if he knew that John asked a client to leave when they had been so lacking in cases. But John was frozen, his mind trying to figure out why Sherlock was doing this.

"Mr. Watson?"

John heard the voice of their client calling from the sitting room, rousing him from his errant thoughts. "Coming….one moment!" John called down. He looked back at Sherlock and cringed. Well….here goes nothing.

John gave Sherlock a firm shake on the shoulder until his eyes fluttered open. Sherlock's eyes opened drowsily and came to rest on John. His eyes grew wide and panicked as he looked up at his flat mate, taking the dummy out and stuffing it under the pillow in record speed. But it was too late and Sherlock knew it.

"John! What is wrong with you!?" Sherlock burst out angrily, covering his underwear covered lower half with his comforter. "Don't you ever knock!"

_Yeah, Sherlock was really the one to talk about knocking….._ "I did knock and you didn't answer" John said, his own face radiating red from the second hand embarrassment on Sherlock's face. He looked absolutely mortified.

"What is so important that you had to come in here and wake me up?" Sherlock asked, panic just under the surface of his emotions.

"There's a client…..in the living room….knew you'd want to know" John said, averting his eyes from Sherlock's. The awkwardness was so thick in the room that he could hardly stand it.

"Oh…..um…..I'll be there in a second…" Sherlock said, his face simultaneously burning red and deathly pale. John actually felt sorry for him.

"Uh…..yeah….." John said awkwardly before turning and leaving Sherlock. He walked back down to the sitting room, hoping his face didn't show his mortifying embarrassment on the part of Sherlock. He sat down in his chair and gave the client a forced smile. "Sherlock will be down in a moment" he said. Silence drug on as John waited for Sherlock to return, the sound of the ticking clock seeming to be very loud in the flat. John was sweating bullets, his confused mind struggling with the image that he had seen, when finally Sherlock emerged from his room, dressed in his usual impeccable suit. There was nothing there to suggest he had looked like a _baby _moments ago. Sherlock sat down in his chair, his eyes purposely avoiding John's.

"Hello…..Sherlock Holmes, and you are?" Sherlock asked the client, more cheerfully than he normally would have.

"Allen Hayden" the man said shakily.

"What is the problem, Mr. Hayden?" Sherlock asked, his eyes sweeping over the man, no doubt already making deductions.

"Well, it's my girlfriend…she's disappeared" Allen said, wrenching his hands together. "No one has seen her for four days. I reported it to the police but they didn't do much…..they said that they're doing all they can but they haven't found her and I'm really worried."

Sherlock tilted his head as he looked at Allen. "Tell me, Mr. Hayden…..did your girlfriend's boss also disappeared when she went missing?"

"Uh…..I don't know, why?" Allen asked, taken aback.

"Because she's having an affair with him, probably has been for upwards of three months." Sherlock said in his callous way. "Most likely she ran away with him"

Allen paled. "w-what?" he asked, tears evident in his eyes. "But…..she couldn't have. She didn't take any of her things with her. And she was NOT having an affair"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Her boss was a millionaire she would hardly need to take anything with her" he said impatiently.

The man looked on the verge of tears. "She was not having an affair…..we are in love" he said sadly.

"Yes, you are" Sherlock said. "In love with different people. Honestly Mr. Hayden, did you think you could keep her happy? She wanted someone with money and influence…..besides, you could hardly satisfy her with your rampant erectile dysfunction"

"Sherlock!" John admonished, watching Allen dissolve into tears. Sherlock ignored him, still not meeting his eyes.

"So sorry for you terrible relationship skills, Mr. Hayden, but that is your case. Please see your way out" Sherlock said, giving Allen a wave of the hand. The man ran out of the flat, tears running down his face.

"Sherlock….do you have to be so mean?" John asked as he watched the man leave.

Sherlock looked uneasy now that he and John were the only ones left in the room. He still didn't look at John. "I'm not going to waste my time….he shouldn't waste his either on that woman. I was doing him a favor" Sherlock pushed up from his chair and attempted to retreat to his room.

John stood up and walked after him. "Sherlock….wait" he said. To his surprise, Sherlock stopped and turned around.

"What?" He asked, his eyes looking anywhere but John's eyes.

"Sherlock…..can we…..talk?" John asked tentatively. "About….what I just saw?"

Sherlock paled but managed to keep a straight face. "No" he said shortly before turning to leave.

"Sherlock…..are you alright?" John asked. He had absolutely no idea why Sherlock would do that but he was beginning to suspect that something wasn't right with him.

Sherlock didn't turn around. "I'm fine, John" he said, running up the stairs.

"But Sherlock…..you were sucking on a dummy-"John started. He was surprised when Sherlock turned around, his face full of anger and hurt and embarrassment.

"I said I'm fine" he said, his voice trembling slightly, suggesting that he was anything but fine. "Drop it, John"

"But Sherlock….." John said, worry beginning to fill him. When he had first seen Sherlock he thought maybe he was a little twisted but now he was simply worried that Sherlock might not be alright emotionally.

"I said DROP IT!" Sherlock thundered in the loudest voice that John had ever heard him use. He walked the rest of the way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.


	2. Little Confession

John hoped all day that Sherlock would come back out of his room and they could talk, but he knew the detective too well and knew he wouldn't. When Sherlock was really upset he could disappear in his room for hours upon hours. After a particularly nasty fight, John hadn't seen him out of his room for a whole day. The flat was quiet and John's activities uninterrupted the rest of the day; while this is what he had wanted earlier, he would now rather have Sherlock yelling and annoying him in favor of giving him the cold shoulder.

It was late when John went into his bedroom, laptop under his arm. It was late but he wasn't tired and his mind wouldn't stop moving. He sat with his legs stretched out on his bed, placing his lap top onto and opening it.

The image of Sherlock, fast asleep with a blankie in hand and a dummy in his mouth, was planted firmly in John's mind. Part of him was bothered by it, thinking it was a little perverted. But part of him kept going back to it mentally not because he was alarmed by it but because it made him smile a little. It was a little….._cute_?

John shook his head to rid himself of that train of thought as he open his computer's browser. He didn't even know what to put in the search for the information that he was searching for. _Why does my flat mate suck a dummy? _John thought it sounded stupid but he didn't know what else to put in so he entered it anyway. Several sights came up with information about something called "adult babies". With trepidation John clicked on several of links.

John considered himself pretty well versed in sexual kinks; he'd had plenty of experience with several of them. But this was something he had not expected. Several articles and images of adults in babyish clothes and sexual scenarios filled his computer screen and he mentally made a note to thoroughly clear his search history before closing his screen. It made enough sense to him; adult babies or engaging in "age play" had nothing to do with actual babies or children, John was relieved to see. Submission/ dominance, humiliation kinks, mummy/ daddy issues…..it all made plenty of sense to him. But for Sherlock?

When John got deeper down into the information, it said that for a lot of people who enjoyed acting like a baby it had nothing to do with sex. Some people craved the attention of being cared for; some people used it as stress relief. The idea of Sherlock wanting attention or needing this to unwind made much for sense to him than anything of sexual nature.

John closed his computer and quickly changed into his pyjamas, sliding into bed. He turned off his light and though he was tired it took him a long time to go to sleep. He kept thinking about Sherlock and wondering about the things he had read. Really he wouldn't know anything for sure until he had talked Sherlock about it. _If _Sherlock would even talk about it.

…..

_It was a weird image, something that should have bothered him but John felt anything but bothered. In fact, he felt safe, protected and calm. He felt truly happy as he looked down at the overgrown bundle in his lap. _

_John laid back against his headboard, using pillows to help support Sherlock's weight as he lay in John's lap. John pulled the blanket tighter around Sherlock and held him close. Sherlock's dummy was nestled in his mouth, moving from Sherlock's sucking motions on it. He looked up at John with a look he had never seen on his face, one filled with adoration and care. He closed his eyes as John ran his fingers along Sherlock's hair, rocking back and forth. _

John's eyes opened, looking around his room as if he didn't trust his surroundings. His ear was tuned to the sounds in the flat but there were no sounds, suggesting that Sherlock was still shut in his room. Light was streaming in through his window and John knew before even looking at the clock that it was midmorning. John flipped on his back, stared at the celling and tried to rid himself of the strange dream he'd had.

It was because of all of the stuff that he had looked at before going to sleep; that was the only explanation of it. It was the only explanation for why in the world he had dreamed of _rocking his flat mate like a baby _of all things. It was only natural to assume that after seeing dozens of such images right before going to sleep that he would dream about it. It wasn't because he liked it…because he _didn't. _

John dressed and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast, surprised to find Sherlock making some tea, his hair ruffled and his dressing gown wrinkled. Sherlock seemed surprised as well and the two ended up standing there staring at each other in uncomfortable silence. John wanted to ask Sherlock right away about yesterday's issues but he knew that if he did that Sherlock would just lock himself back in his room. Maybe if he was gentler and eased into it, Sherlock might be more willing to talk.

"Any extra?" John asked, pointing to the pot of tea (one he hoped hadn't been used in any experiments).

Sherlock looked confused for a moment before looking at the tea pot. "Yeah….yeah, sure" he said, taking another cup out of the cabinet and filling it with tea. He handed it to John but then backed away, watching him cautiously. He looked at John like he was a bomb that might explode.

"So…..got any plans for today?" John asked pleasantly. Sherlock looked at him warily; he honestly expected John to ask him about the dummy any minuet and was shocked when he didn't.

"No" Sherlock answered, finally seeing it acceptable to talk. "Not unless we get a case…..hopefully a client might come round. You?"

John shrugged casually. "No, I don't have anything in mind. Thought you and me might go out somewhere…..find something to get into" he said.

Sherlock's defenses were up and he gave John a cautious look, no doubt suspecting he was up to something. "Like what?" he asked.

"I don't know…..whatever you'd like" John said. He knew it was not a normal thing for him to say but he didn't relish the idea of staying around the flat all day until they started arguing again.

"I don't want to go out" Sherlock said shortly before placing his tea cup next to the sink (never in the sink) and walking out of the room.

John sighed; so he was going to shut down before the day had even begun. This was going to be a long day.

….

John walked down the street, the cool brisk night air making him eager to get back to the flat. His breath came out in puffs and it was thanks to the alcohol that he had drunk that he didn't feel colder. He wasn't drunk, but he had had enough that he was calm and at ease.

It had taken all of an hour being alone at the flat with Sherlock before they had started arguing. It was like Sherlock _wanted _a fight. John had been trying to read a book, minding his own business; Sherlock had complained about everything from the way John turned the pages to the loudness of John's breathing. When John had tried to ignore him, Sherlock had begun throwing books randomly off the bookshelf to the floor which John had also ignored until one had landed on his head. It had not been an accident, John was sure, and a terrible argument has ensued. By late afternoon, John was dying for an excuse to leave. When Greg had called and invited him out to dinner, he had practically run out of the door. It was only natural that he had had a few to take the edge off the high levels of emotions that he had had all day.

John walked into 221B with caution, wondering how wound up Sherlock would be now. A quick glance around the flat told John that Sherlock wasn't even here. John couldn't imagine where he might have been as he didn't make many social trips out, usually only leaving the flat when it pertained to a case. But he still had a nice buzz going and so he didn't worry about it much. John settled down into his chair after having grabbed another beer and turned the telly on, settling on a stupid sitcom. He hadn't gotten more than 10 minutes in when he had heard a long banging sound on the stairs. He turned to look in just time to see Sherlock stumble into the room, leaning heavily on the door. Drunk…very drunk actually.

John just stared at him in surprise until Sherlock managed to stumble across the room and fall into his own chair. He stared at John and pointed a finger at John. "You….what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice heavily slurred.

"What am I doing?" John asked. "I live here"

"You…..you left me" Sherlock said, still pointing the shaky finger at him.

John was confused. Sherlock didn't drink, hardly ever; was he trying to imply that he had driven Sherlock to drink?

"I didn't leave you" John said. "You were being a brat and Greg invited me to dinner so I went"

"Brat?" Sherlock asked overly dramatic, swaying in his chair. "I'm not a brat"

John's head was beginning to swirl from the additional alcohol that he had drank. "You are a brat…..you threw a fit all day and when I didn't pay attention to you, you got upset. Right?"

"You ignored me…I was trying to get your attention" Sherlock said. He leaned back in the chair, his lip beginning to pout out a little in a very childish way.

"Yeah, just like a little brat" John said with a laugh. He finished the off his drink and looked at Sherlock who was downright _pouting. _"I ignored you so went out and got drunk?"

"I just want you to notice me" Sherlock said, his voice beginning to sound whiny.

"Then talk to me like a normal person. Start a conversation with me" John said with a laugh. He was always surprised by the things that he had to explain to Sherlock. "Just talk to me…..don't throw a tantrum like a child."

Sherlock's eyes glazed over from the alcohol that he had had; John wondered vaguely how much he had had. "But I am" Sherlock said in small, whiny voice.

"You are what?" John asked. He knew that his mental capabilities were slowed but he still knew Sherlock was not making any sense.

"I am a child" Sherlock said, shutting his eyes and putting his head back from dizziness.

"You're not a child" John said with a laugh. "You're a grown man"

"I don't want to be" Sherlock said, laying his head on the arm of his chair. "I want to be little"

Slowly, ever so slowly the pieces were snapping into place in John's drunken mind. He forced his slow mind to work. It made sense now; everything Sherlock had been doing was to get his attention. John had been ignoring him, so he did what he could to get his attention even if it negative attention…..just like a child. With Sherlock so out of his normal element and already being so honest, John decided to take a chance.

"Why?" John asked. "Why do you want to be little? Does this have something to do with…..what I saw yesterday "

Sherlock hid his face and for a moment, John thought he wasn't going to speak. "I…..I just am…little" he eventually said now positivity laying in his chair, "I don't know why…I just…need someone…..to take care of me…..."

Sherlock slumped so far forward that he fell into the floor. John got up quickly, as quickly as he could in his current state, and went to Sherlock. He flipped Sherlock over so that he was on his back, looking up at him. "I want you to take care of me" Sherlock said in a whisper before his eyes fluttered closed.

John's head was swirling with the confusion of it all but knowing that Sherlock was not likely to make much sense in his current state, John helped him to his feet and began to lead him toward his bedroom. Sherlock leaned on him heavily, almost too heavily, but somehow he stumbled the way toward Sherlock's bedroom. John sat on the bed, leaning Sherlock over to that he was laying down. Sherlock's weight was enough that John was pulled down beside Sherlock. He was suddenly so tried he didn't want to move; the trip between Sherlock's room and his own seemed so far away and now that he was lying down he was just too comfortable.

John moved a little on the bed in a weak attempt to get up but he felt a push from the almost sleeping detective beside him. "Stay" Sherlock mumbled from his pillow. John didn't need much convincing.

Again, for the second night in a row, John went to sleep with thoughts of an innocent Sherlock floating through his head, thoughts of a Sherlock that liked dummies and blankies and wanted someone to take care of him even though he appeared so strong. He was falling under the veil of sleep, so close that when he heard Sherlock's voice again he thought he might have imagined it.

"Daddy"


	3. Admitting It

_Again, the image in John's head prevailed and though he knew it wasn't real, part of him pretended that it was. Sherlock was curled up in his lap, clutching his green blankie to him and sucking vigorously on his dummy. He looked up at John, a smile forming behind his dummy. John couldn't help but smiling himself and as he did, he reached up and stroked Sherlock's cheek gently. He made a contented sound and closed his eyes. He reached his own hand out and touched John's cheek. "Daddy" he murmured in a small voice as he fingers ran over John's cheek._

John's eyes popped open and were instantly assaulted by the bright light of the morning sun coming through the window. His head hurt but not too bad, though he felt confused. A quick glance around his surroundings told him the reason for the confusion. He was sleeping in Sherlock's bed, still fully clothed from how he had basically passed out after putting Sherlock to bed. The man in question lay beside him, still asleep. The image of the impeccably dressed adult beside him did not fit with the image of the same man John had just had in his head.

John got up as quickly as he could, his muscles and joints aching in protest, and made his way to the shower. He shed his slept-in clothes fast and got into the hot water, hoping to clear his head.

He would have liked to explain away everything that had happened last night, the strange conversation and the weird dream, to the alcohol. But he knew that he couldn't do that, no matter how much he wanted to. That didn't explain what he had seen with his own eyes and the dream he'd had that night, completely sober.

Sherlock liked being little and babyish; he had admitted that much even though John didn't know yet exactly what that entailed yet. He desired to be taken care of which was the exact opposite of anything John would have imagined of him. He seemed so strong, so natural in places of power. He loved to boss other people around and had the general attitude of "its-my-way-or-no-way". John would never have suspected that deep down, at least part of the time, he wanted someone else to be in control. Sherlock seemed to desire control, at least on the outside but to want someone to take care of him? To want John to take care of him? It seemed so strange.

John should have been repulsed by the whole thing; it was weird. But that was what was really bothering him; he wasn't disgusted or bothered by it. The first time that he had dreamed about Sherlock in his babyish state, he could try to deny that he liked it at least a little bit. But the second time, he could at least admit to himself that he enjoyed the idea at least some. Some part of him actually wanted to find out what it would be like to take care of Sherlock properly, like he really needed someone to take care him. Part of him wanted to see Sherlock in that small, calm state he had found him in during his nap the other day and part of him could still hear Sherlock's voice call him daddy…..

_What the hell is wrong with me!?_ John asked himself angrily as he rinsed the soap out of his hair with extreme vigor. He finished in the shower and dressed quickly, going to the kitchen to hopefully find something to sober him up. He found Sherlock already in the kitchen, still dressed in his rumpled clothes from yesterday, the picture of a bad hangover. His hair was wild around his head, his eyes bloodshot, leaning his elbows on the table, face in hands, and a cup of tea in front of him. He glanced up at John as he entered the room but didn't say anything. John made some toast before sitting down and handing Sherlock half of the toast. He pushed it a way with a grunt.

"Eat it…..it'll help" John said, beginning to eat his own toast. Sherlock gave John a death stare but did begin to begrudgingly eat one of the pieces of toast.

John ate for a while in increasingly uncomfortable silence before he decided to speak. He and Sherlock needed to discuss this whole age play thing and sooner would be better rather than later if nothing else but to cure his own burning curiosity.

"Sherlock…listen, we need to talk" John said, looking up from his tea. Sherlock looked up at the same moment and his eyes held John's for all of one second before he pushed up from the table and began to retreat from room.

"Hey, Sherlock!" John said his voice raising. "You get back here right now!"

Sherlock didn't seem to take the hint and John was not going to let it pass. If he let Sherlock get out of this now, he could assume that they would have a repeat of the previous day, full of yelling and arguing as a way of demanding John's attention when he didn't need to.

"Sherlock Holmes….get….back…in….here…..NOW! You said you wanted my attention, well, you've got it right now so get back in here!" John yelled in best captain's voice. It was a grasp at straws but he thought maybe it might work. Scolding Sherlock never had worked before but he had to try.

John was surprised when he saw Sherlock's head poke back into the kitchen, slowly walking back to his chair, his cheeks already pink. This was going to be a long conversation…

"Okay…..Sherlock" John said, calmly, his voice a contrast to his yelling of earlier. "Listen….we need to talk about what happened yesterday. What you told me….."

"I was…..intoxicated" Sherlock said, folding his arms. "I can hardly be held to anything I might have made up while under the influence"

"Well, that's the thing about being drunk" John said with a smile. "It doesn't usually make for a liar. In fact…..it has a way of making people painfully honest. Even about something you normally would never share."

Panic flashed in Sherlock's eyes and John could sense he was about to run. "Sherlock…it's alright" John assured him before he could flee. "You don't need to be embarrassed about this….wanting to be little stuff. It's alright"

Sherlock's cheeks deepened in red and he didn't want to meet John's eyes. "It…..is?" he asked.

"Yeah" John said. "I'm not going to judge you or anything. But I want you to be honest with me"

Sherlock shifted in his seat. "Well…..it's kind of a private matter. I'd rather not share….the details" he said in mortification.

"But how do you expect me to take care of you if I don't even understand what you want?" John said. He couldn't believe that he had said it…when exactly had he made up in his mind to baby his flat mate?

Apparently, Sherlock couldn't believe that John had said it either. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open for a minute before he spoke. "You…..you'd…take care me?" he asked incredulously.

John hoped that he hadn't agreed to something he couldn't deliver on. He was uncomfortable at the prospect of what taking care of Sherlock might mean, but something in his belly also fluttered in an excited way and he tried to ignore it. "Well…..yeah….I mean, I never knew that that was something you wanted" John said, his own eyes unable to stay on Sherlock for embarrassment. "I've…..I mean I know a little bit about this stuff…but I don't really know enough…I'd probably be rubbish at it….." John shook his head; he was rambling. He rambled when he got nervous. He forced himself to slow down. "What I mean is…I don't know a lot about this…..but I would like to. It's important to you…..so it's important to me. I'd like you to tell me about it"

Sherlock looked almost shocked at John's words, but then again John was shocked that he had said them. "I….I don't know" Sherlock said uncertainty. John couldn't blame him for being wary but he really hoped that Sherlock didn't pull away now after they were so close to talking about it.

"It's okay, Sherlock" John said. "Really…you can tell me anything and I'm not going to make it weird."

Sherlock shifted in his chair as his cheeks took on what appeared to be a permanent red colour. "What do you want to know?" he asked reluctantly.

"Well, for starters, why?" John asked. "Why do you do this stuff?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know…..I really don't know. I've been attracted to these things as long as I can remember." He said with hesitation. "It just always makes me feel calm and at ease." He put his hands on his head. "It gets so loud in my head…..sometimes I can hardly stand it. This helps me slow down…..helps the turmoil in my brain stop." He looked up at John. "I'm a freak, aren't I?"

"No" John was quick to say. "No, that doesn't make you a freak. I mean…..it's different, but everyone's got something that they do to help cope with the world. You're not hurting yourself or anyone else so there isn't anything wrong with it"

"But its weird right?" Sherlock asked, shame on his face.

John felt awkward himself but he could tell that Sherlock was downright mortified. "Why did you say that you wanted me to care of you?" he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer and fairly certain that it would help him calm down. "Have you ever had anyone take care of you? As an adult, I mean?"

Sherlock looked down at the table. "No…..no one has" he said quietly.

"Then why me?" John asked.

Sherlock paused for a long time. "Because I trust you" he said. He looked up at John and John saw a look he had never seen in his eyes before, one he had seen in his dreams the past two nights. It was a look that said that he trusted John completely and whole heartily. Honest openness was in his eyes and that was exactly what John had been hoping for.

"If that's true, if you really trust me, then open up, Sherlock" John said, giving him a smile. "You're not weird, you're not a freak. Just talk to me so I can take care of you…God knows you need someone to take care of you, right? I've been doing a lot of that already" John said with a laugh. He knew it was nothing compared to what Sherlock might ask of him soon but he'd already fretted over Sherlock's poor self-care habits so much that it would put his mind at ease to be in a little more control.

John was glad when he saw Sherlock smile a bit. He looked down and ruffled his hair in an embarrassed fashion before he looked at John. "Do you even know what you're asking?" Sherlock asked with a nervous laugh. "I can be a real brat when I'm…..little"

John laughed. "Well, you're a brat when you're big so that's no surprise" he said good naturally. There was a long pause and John asked the question that he had been poking at the edge of his mind. "You called me…..daddy last night, didn't you?"

Sherlock's laugh disappeared and he blushed deeply again. "Yes" he said quietly as if he was admitting a great crime.

"Because that's what you'd call me when I was taking care of you, right?" John ventured. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation and was even more surprised that it was alright with him.

Sherlock nodded. "But only if it's okay with you" he was quick to say. "I don't want to make it uncomfortable"

John didn't say what he was thinking, that he actually warmed up a little inside at the thought of it. He could barely admit that to himself and he was not ready to admit it out loud yet. "That's fine with me" John said. He cleared his throat as he went on. "So…..what does a…..daddy do?" He was beginning to sweat and it suddenly seemed very hot in the room.

Sherlock looked away from John for a long before he looked up, an air of excitement suddenly filling his eyes at the prospect that John was really going to do this. "Well…the sorts of things that a regular daddy would do. You know…..playtime…..feed me…..put me back in line when I'm being a brat" John laughed at this and it seemed to put Sherlock a little more at ease. "I really just want a time to relax and get away from all the complicated adult things we do all the time. Watch some cartoons that I would never consider watching when I'm being grown up…..have bath time, go to bed nice and comfortable in a nappy" He saw John's face drop at this and quickly said, "Or not"

John's head was spinning from all the information. Sherlock…in a nappy? One that John was, supposedly going to put him in? It was all a bit much to take in and John wasn't sure he was on board for all of this. Honestly, at this point, he wasn't sure what he was in for. "No…..no its okay. It's just a lot to take in but it's okay"

Sherlock went back to being a little embarrassed. "Yeah…..I know." He said quickly. "But you don't have to do any of this if you don't want to"

"No…..I want to" John said quickly, a little too quickly. His ears heated up at the smile that he saw on Sherlock's face. "I just….want to think about it a little before we…jump in"

"Sure" Sherlock said, a little unsure but happy at least that John was considering it. "Sure, that's fine"

The silence that ensued was so uncomfortable that John got up from the table and began to rinse out the tea cups for something to do with his hands. He was surprised when he felt Sherlock's arms tentatively wrap around him from behind in an awkward hug. John stopped what he was doing and smiled at the strange, unexpected hug. Sherlock had never hugged him before.

"Thank you, John" Sherlock said, his voice full of unexpected gratitude and it warmed John to the core.


	4. Comforting Little Sherlock

Over the next two weeks, Sherlock mentioned no more about age play, fulfilling John's need for space and time before they began to experiment with John babying him. John went back to several of the sites that he had visited about adult babies, looking for information on how to take care of Sherlock (what they called being a 'caregiver'). John had never really taken care of real babies and the information made him a little more at ease about what his role was going to be. But really, he knew that nothing was going to fully tell him about the experience until they actually got into it. John had several more dreams that featured a baby Sherlock and he had to admit that he was more than a little anxious about getting started and trying it out.

But a few days after their conversation, Lestrade had come to them with a new case so their time for trying out their newly agreed roles was put on hold. There was a gang of several people breaking into homes and killing the residents at night. The murders had seemed completely random and the Yard had been at a loss. Sherlock had been working very long hours trying to catch these men and John knew it was taking a toll on him. John would occasionally take breaks from the work, only long enough to attend to sleeping and eating, but Sherlock refused to take breaks until the murderers had been found. For two weeks he had worked nearly 24 hours a day until the case had come to a head. Sherlock and John had ended up in a hostage situation with the leader of the gang holding John as their bait to get out of the situation without Sherlock calling the police. Words were exchanged and guns went off and before John knew it he was free and lying surrounded by the bodies of the gang members. It was all such a blur; he'd been so relieved to be alive that it had taken several minutes for John to register Sherlock's state. Though shooting the men had been necessary, John could see that Sherlock felt horrible at what he had done.

On the ride back to the flat that night, John's heart still beat fast in his chest from the adrenaline and stress of the night. Sherlock was silent beside him and yet John could sense his turmoil. He was beating himself up inside for killing those men when he had not had a choice, not to mention the physical wear down and emotional and mental fatigue of the past two weeks. John didn't know how he didn't completely lose it. But one thing he knew about Sherlock was that he really crashed when a long case was finally over. John hoped that, now knowing what Sherlock really needed deep down, that he could help him relax from what he had just been through.

The cab parked outside of 221B late into the night and John paid the cabbie wearily before getting out of the cab behind Sherlock. They made their way quietly in, sure not to disturb Mrs. Hudson, but their footsteps were heavy when they got into their own flat, reflecting their moods. Unable to do anything else, John flopped down on the couch, every muscle in his body aching now that his adrenaline rush was gone. As tired and worn as he was, John was more concerned with Sherlock and how he was doing right now.

Sherlock had removed his coat but other than that he appeared to be completely frozen. He stood in the middle of the living room, his face pale and drawn and his hands shaking slightly. Now knowing what he did about Sherlock, it looked to John like he might dissolve any minuet into a puddle of feelings. He looked so vulnerable, so easily broken. He looked so lost and small that it broke John's heart to see him that way. John hadn't made up his mind about how he felt about being a 'daddy' to Sherlock but he did know one thing he was sure about; he wanted to protect him and take care of him more than anything else in this moment.

"Sherlock" John said, his voice ringing out in the quiet of the flat. Sherlock jumped a little, as if he was not expecting to hear his voice. "Come here" John said, holding out his arms in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

At first, Sherlock resisted. "No….I should…I mean, I need to…." He stuttered. John could tell that he was just barley holding on emotionally though he was trying to hold it all in. He was trying to be adult, to be strong. After how many times he had put this mask on, he deserved to shed it and be little like he wanted to. But it was obvious that he was not sure what John was asking by holding out his arms.

"Just let me take care of you" John said urgingly. He held out his arms further. "Sherlock….just let daddy take care of you"

It sounded so weird to John but the reaction from Sherlock was almost immediate. He understood now that John was ready to try out being his caregiver and with this assurance he was finally able to let go of his adultness and open the part of himself that had previously been closed off.

Sherlock whole demeanor instantly changed to a more childishly open one. His face was now openly vulnerable, tears beginning to stream down his face as he rushed forward into John's arms. He straddled John's lap, burying his face into John's neck. John wrapped his arms around the now 'small' detective; it should have been awkward with Sherlock's size but he was so thin he didn't feel too big on John's lap.

John and Sherlock had never had much in the way of closeness in physical contact and as they melded together so easily, John wondered how they had never done this before. As John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled him as tight as he could, there was a collective sigh that went through the both of them.

John could feel Sherlock's tears on his neck as he sobbed so hard it shook both of them. His hands gripped John's jumper tightly as if he was holding on for dear life. John was a little alarmed by the severity of Sherlock's crying but he knew that it wasn't just his feelings in the moment but all the stress of the whole case and lack of sleep and proper care of himself that was all crushing down at once. John felt sorrow when he stopped to consider how many times he might have broken down like this but all on his own. He was not going to let that happen again…..

In the time that John had had to worry and wonder about his role as a caretaker, he had worried that things would be awkward and that he wouldn't know what to do next. He was glad, at least for the moment, that it was easy enough to just do what came naturally. He patted Sherlock's back gently as he cried and his other hand found Sherlock's hair. He ran his fingers slowly through Sherlock's curls, surprised at how soft they felt between his fingers.

Sherlock cried for a long time before he finally began to calm down a little. His wracking sobs began to give way to shuddering sighs as he tried to catch his breath, coughing from how much he had worked himself up. After Sherlock calmed down considerably, John pulled his hand from Sherlock's hair and looked down at him.

"Do you want daddy to take you to bed?" John asked, keeping his voice calm and soothing as he could. Sherlock looked up at him with the same look he'd only ever seen in his dreams. His eyes were red and tear filled, his lip pouting out in true childish fashion. His gaze was one so filled with trust that John silently began to worry he might truly screw this up. His and Sherlock's relationship up to this point had been so strongly with Sherlock in the lead. He had always followed Sherlock in to whatever danger might lay ahead, never questioning but always going because Sherlock said it was alright. Even when he was not trustworthy, John had trusted him. John knew that their relationship was about to take a very different turn, one where Sherlock began to follow him and trust him. He knew, vaguely, at least that Sherlock hadn't had many people to count on in his past and he hoped that he didn't add to that distrust of people that made Sherlock say it was better alone than with people.

Sherlock looked up at John with those trusting eyes that made something inside of him slowly melt for a moment before he nodded. He slid off of John's lap and stood there, watching John for his lead. His face was full of worry and fatigue and littleness that John didn't know could exist on Sherlock's features. With a little trepidation, John reached out and took Sherlock's hand, leading him toward his bedroom. He turned the lamp on and gave Sherlock a gentle nudge toward his bed. Once Sherlock was sitting down, John went to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to wipe off Sherlock's swollen face. When he returned, Sherlock was looking at him anxiously as if thought he might not have come back.

John got in front of Sherlock tipping his head back so that he was looking up at him. He ran the cold cloth across his eyes and over his cheeks, wiping off the tears and cooling down his face a little. When John pulled the cloth away from Sherlock's face, he was giving John a small smile. "Is that better?" John asked, putting the cloth on the bedside table.

Sherlock gave him a shy nod, looking up at John but not saying anything. John didn't think he had seen Sherlock be quiet this long without being in his mind palace.

"Let's get you some pyjamas" John said, looking toward Sherlock's chest of drawers. He was saved the embarrassment of having to search through every single drawer for Sherlock's pyjamas when he pointed to the third drawer. John opened the drawer, feeling a bit odd rifling through Sherlock's clothes. It was mostly filled with Sherlock's regular pyjama pants and t-shirts but under one of the t-shirts was something John didn't expect to see in Sherlock's possession. It was a blue fuzzy pair of footed pyjamas with green biohazard signs on it. The sight of it made John smile; he hadn't worn a pair these since he had been five years old. He didn't even know they made these for adults and he suddenly had a strong desire to see what Sherlock would look like in them.

Satisfied with his choice, John went back over to Sherlock with the pyjamas. He held them out to Sherlock who didn't take them but held his arms up instead. It took John several seconds to realize that Sherlock wanted him to help him get dressed. His stomach twisted nervously at the thought. Really, it was ridiculous. Sherlock wasn't that worried about modesty and John had seen him various stages of undress around the flat. On the flip side, Sherlock was not shy at all about barging in on John while he was changing or while he was in the shower. But this…..this was different. This was John taking Sherlock's clothes off. It wasn't like he was going to be looking but it was a bit strange.

Sherlock sensed John's hesitancy and he took the pyjamas from him. His expression changed instantly from adorably vulnerable to disappointed adult. He could sense that John didn't want to do it and he felt terrible. Sherlock was opening a vulnerable and private part of himself and John was getting bent out of shape about changing his clothes. It really wasn't that big of deal and he shouldn't act as if it was. After all, Sherlock had saved his life mere hours ago and this was the least that he could do. And if he was ever going to work up to putting him in a nappy –which he did plan on doing if Sherlock wanted him to- then he needed to get over his own shyness.

John took the pyjamas out of Sherlock's hands and he looked up at John with a confused expression. "Don't worry…..I'll do it" John assured him, earning a smile from Sherlock. His smile slowly turned into a yawn as Sherlock's eyes fluttered. He was completely exhausted. It was hard to tell how long it had been since he had slept.

John took Sherlock's shoes and socks off before he reached up and took off Sherlock's jacket and shirt, revealing his pale chest. His ribs stood out clearly and John made a vivid mental note if he was to be taking care of Sherlock he was going to be eating more. John paused a second before he undid Sherlock's belt and helped him wiggle out of his trousers. John was glad to see that Sherlock was at least wearing pants; he was fairly sure he didn't all the time and he didn't think he was ready for all of that yet.

Once all of Sherlock's adult clothes were off, John began to put the pyjamas on him. After internally debating the best way to actually get them on, John started with the feet, slipping them on Sherlock's feet and helping him stand to get his arms in. He zipped up the footies and as Sherlock sat down on the bed again, John took in the sight of his flat mate in fuzzy baby pyjamas. A smile spread across his face that turned into a small chuckle.

"Do I look silly? "Sherlock asked. It was the first thing he had said since assuming his 'little' self and his voice sounded smaller and needier than his normal voice.

But Sherlock didn't look silly at all. John thought he looked cute and he didn't know where the hell that was coming from but he couldn't let Sherlock think that he was anything but that. "Not at all" John said, putting his hands on Sherlock's face so he looked at him. "You don't look silly at all. You look just like my baby"

Sherlock's cheeks blushed and he looked downward at the compliment. "Really, daddy?" he asked in that small voice.

_Oh my God…_John had heard women speak before a stirring they felt when confronted with babies. Their 'motherly instincts' gave them a fluttering inside, prompting their internal clocks to suddenly go off and make them want a baby. This sensation of sudden, intense protection and care for another human being had never made sense to John as a man with no children, one who didn't even particularly like children. But something about Sherlock, looking so vulnerable and so trusting, adoration in his eyes for him of all people and calling him daddy stirred up feelings and emotions so deep inside John that he didn't even know they existed. He suddenly felt like he would do anything he could for Sherlock to keep looking at him like that and hoping in him. It made absolutely no sense to John, why he felt this way, but he wasn't going to try to explain it. He was just going to go with it.

"Of course" John said with a grin that spread from ear to ear. He tugged on Sherlock's pyjamas. "They're just perfect for my little scientist"

Sherlock tried to smile but was interrupted again by a yawn. "Alright, that's a sign its bedtime for Sherlock" he said in his best parental tone. "No fighting…..in you go"

John pulled the covers back and Sherlock eagerly slid under them, no fighting. He was already half asleep when John walked to the door.

"You're leaving?" Sherlock's voice suddenly sounded desperate behind John. John turned around to see Sherlock leaning up on his elbows, his eyes wide.

"I was going to go to sleep…..just like you are." John said. He felt almost dead on his feet at this point.

"Sleep here" Sherlock said, patting the bed beside him. "Please?"

John was beginning to understand the little version of Sherlock was apparently way needier than the adult version. He knew with actual children it was best not to sleep with them because that spoiled them. But Sherlock wasn't a real child and he was probably spoiled anyway. Besides, he had actually said please, something John had never heard him say. "Okay….let me go get my pyjamas and I'll be right back" John said. Sherlock gave him a smile before settling back down on his pillow.

John barely had enough energy to walk up the stairs and back to his own room. He threw on the first pair or pyjamas that he could find and staggered back to Sherlock's room, fully intent on passing out the second that he got there.

When John walked into Sherlock's room, though he was stopped by the sudden, warm feeling he got at seeing Sherlock so small. He was lying on the bed, his eyes closed, his blankie under his head, dummy securely in his mouth. It was the same sight he had been having in his dreams since he had caught Sherlock napping that day a few weeks ago and it did things to John he couldn't explain.

With the sudden need to cuddle up to his "baby", John got into bed beside Sherlock. Though he had thought the detective to be asleep, Sherlock immediately rolled over and moved closer to John. His head came to rest on John's chest and John put his arm around him. John was waiting for the moment that it would become weird, the moment that he would decide that he needed to stop and distance himself from Sherlock. But that moment didn't come. After the hellish night they had had, John couldn't think of a better way to end the night, as completely strange as it was.

John was almost asleep, cocooned warmly in the blanket next to Sherlock when he spoke in the silence. "Good night, daddy" Sherlock said quietly.

John wondered what part of him it was that melted inside at those words, but he was sure that they were soon to be complete mush. "Good night, Sherlock"


	5. Playtime

John had the calmest, most uninterrupted sleep he could remember having in a long time. For once there were no dreams, no nightmares and he didn't wake in the middle of the night in a panic, wondering where he was or what was happening. The events of the previous night, having a gun pointed to his head and genuinely wondering if he might die, should have made his sleep uneasy and filled with terrors. But as he woke, he could remember the reason why he his sleep had been so easy.

John opened his eyes and they were instantly fixed on Sherlock's peaceful form sleeping beside him. If he were not still in the footed pyjamas and clutching the blankie, John might have wondered if he had dreamed the whole thing. Seeing Sherlock's dummy on the pillow beside him, having slipped out while he slept, John picked it up and put it back into Sherlock's parted lips while he slept. John could see Sherlock's eyes flutter under their lids and he hoped that Sherlock's dreams were pleasant ones, that his sleep would be as calm as John's had been.

John wondered how things were going to go when Sherlock woke up. Last night things had been so emotionally charged from the case and John wondered if Sherlock would still want to be little or if he would be back to his fully adult self again. A big part of John hoped that Sherlock continued with his littleness; he hadn't had much time to really get to know this part of Sherlock and he hoped he could remedy that today.

John slowly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Sherlock. He likely hadn't slept at all during the case and he needed as much sleep as he could get. John walked to the kitchen to find something to make for breakfast, a little daunted by the task by the atrocious mess that was their kitchen; no wonder they usually got take away. But an idea was swirling in John's head and he wanted to make it happen despite the mess that Sherlock had made of the kitchen and their lack of food supplies. John couldn't forget how skinny Sherlock had seemed as he put him in his pyjamas and if he was going to be daddy, if he was going to get to be in control, he was going to insist that Sherlock start eating more.

John could cook well but he was a little out of habit at it; it took a little longer than he had expected it to, especially with their lack of 'childish' food but he had managed to make a big breakfast for Sherlock, one fit for the 'little' him. As John leaned back against the counter and admired his finished work, doubt began to set in. Suddenly, the mound of chocolate chip pancakes, complete with a banana for a nose, strawberries for eyes and whipped cream hair, complete with hot chocolate to drink seemed stupid. He had such excitement about making something for his "little one" but now he just felt…..silly. It was easy to imagine that the events of last night hadn't happened and Sherlock would come in and laugh at the ridiculous spectacle he'd made in the kitchen. Doubt gripped him; _what the hell am I doing….._

John had just made up his mind to dump the kiddie breakfast and start over when Sherlock came into the kitchen. _Well, no time to get rid of the evidence now….._

Sherlock rubbed his eyes tiredly, still clad in his footies. His expression was a little uncertain as he looked at John and John wondered if he had the same doubts about this as he had when he had woken. If he did, John wanted to put them to rest.

"How's my little sleepy head doing?" John asked, giving Sherlock a smile.

Sherlock still looked a little shy. "Good…..." he said slowly. "What are you doing in here?"

"I made you some breakfast" John said, pulling back the chair and motioning for Sherlock to sit down. "And I expect you to eat every last bit" He said in his best parental tone.

Sherlock followed John's lead and sat down in the offered chair. Any doubts John had about his breakfast creation was quickly dispelled at the bright smile Sherlock had on his face when he saw it and the way he tucked into it. John was sure that he was famished from his overwork and lack of personal care but it still made him happy to see him actually eating something with excitement.

John sat down and began to eat his own breakfast, surprised to see that Sherlock finished all of his before John. He glanced at John with some hesitation before he finally spoke. "Thank you, John….for doing this" he said, averting his eyes half way through. "I know it must be really strange to you"

John thought about the warm, happiness that sprang through him at Sherlock's innocence and his neediness for John. It wasn't strange at all…..and he didn't want to stop doing it. He knew Sherlock was having doubts that John wanted to do this. Without the adrenaline and tears of last night he was anxious about John seeing this part of himself. His anxiousness made John all the more want to put him at ease. He'd known for a long time that Sherlock was secretly broken, that deep down he hurt more and was less confident that he let anyone believe and now he was seeing that come to the front even more.

John put his silverwear down and looked Sherlock in the eye. "This is not strange" John said honestly. "You need to believe that Sherlock. Honestly, if I had a problem with this then I wouldn't be doing it, alright? If I ever have a problem with something, or I don't want to do something, I'll let you know. I'm not doing any of this because I feel like I have to"

"Then why are you doing this?" Sherlock asked honestly. His voice was a mixture between his little and adult self.

John felt his ears turn red; it was hard to be completely open with Sherlock. He hoped that it got easier the more they did this. "Because you're my friend, Sherlock. This means a lot to you and I want to be there to help you out. And…" John's ears were positively burning at this point. "I like taking care of you"

"You do?" Sherlock asked. His own cheeks were red and somehow that made John feel better.

"Well…..yeah" John said. "I don't really know why but I like the idea of protecting you…..taking care of you" John laughed out of nerves. "Jesus….this isn't easy. I feel like a total nutter"

Sherlock laughed a genuine laugh. "You feel like a nutter?" he asked, looking down at his current attire. "Well, I guess that makes two of us" He sobered up a little as he looked at John seriously. "This isn't easy for me either John. If it's hard for you to admit you like taking care of me, imagine how hard it is for me to admit that I want to you take care of me? I'm not used to showing any weakness and it's not easy for to admit how much I really just want to follow your lead…..that I want someone to keep control of me"

John smiled, some of the awkwardness dissolving. "So….it's a little odd for both of us then?" he said. "I think it's worth a little weirdness for us to try it out and get used to it, right?"

Sherlock smiled. "Yeah…..yeah I think it's definitely worth it "he said. He gave John a sly smile. "You might not be saying that later when you see how bratty I can be"

"You've always been a brat" John said with a laugh. "I've just been waiting for a chance to put you in line"

Sherlock blushed a little darker. "I'm going to hold you to that…..I need a firm hand. Don't let me get away with anything. You might have to pull out that captain's voice again" he said.

John felt an odd sense of excitement run through him at the prospect. He didn't know what he was getting into but he had an idea that this was going to be a lot of fun.

….

After breakfast, John followed Sherlock back to his room. They had tentatively agreed to spend the day feeling things out and John had asked Sherlock to share his little things with him. John had seen the numerous adult baby items that were available in his research and he had no doubt that Sherlock had some of his own tucked away.

John sat on Sherlock's bed while he went over to the closet and pulled out two plastic tubs. A small gleam of excitement was on his face, obviously glad to share the things he'd had hidden for so long. He opened the tubs and tipped them out, a collection of baby things spilling out.

Sherlock in this aspect, like all other aspects of his life, was nothing but thorough. There were bibs, sippy cups, baby bottles and dummies. There were a few more baby blankets though none were as loved as the one Sherlock slept with. There were also various toys and now John could see why Sherlock spent so much time in his room. Coloring books, crayons, puzzles, Legos, Kinects, blocks, toy cars, bathtub toys (no wonder he took such long baths!) superhero action figures along with a few really babyish toys like soft blocks and teething rings. Among the items was also the one thing John was still really apprehensive about; a package of adult sized nappies, wipes and baby powder.

"You've got quite a collection" John said impressively. "Looks like you've been the one having all the fun"

"Would you like to play?" Sherlock asked. He wasn't fully into his littleness, what John now knew to be called 'little headspace' but John was sure it wouldn't take much convincing to get him there. He was obviously starved for attention and with John willing to give it to him, he was sure to eat it up.

"Sure" John said. "What would you like to play with?"

Sherlock looked from John to the toys on the floor, considering which one to play with. He dropped to his knees , riffling through the toys and finally settled on the Legos. He gave John a cautious glance as he began to snap the pieces together.

John got down on the floor beside him, unsure at first what to do. He hadn't played with toys in…..he didn't even know how long it had been since he played with a toy. He watched Sherlock for a while before he began to add pieces of his own to Sherlock's slowly developing structure. After a few minutes of play, Sherlock reached through his stash for a dummy, popping a camouflage one (one John had to admit he was partial to) in his mouth. His demeanor changed slowly the more they played until John could tell he had gone from big Sherlock to little Sherlock. He snapped the Legos together with the intensity of a driven child.

"So…..what are you making, Sherlock?" John asked after Sherlock had gotten three sides on the structure that he was making.

"A castle, of course" Sherlock said , pointing to it as if it should be obvious, popping his dummy back in the second that he had stopped talking.

"You're building a castle for Spiderman and the Hulk?" John asked, picking up his action figures and putting them in the middle of the 'castle'.

Sherlock pulled his dummy out. "Do you think superheroes go in a castle?" he asked sassily like a child that can't believe you don't 'get it'. "Everyone knows that superheroes don't live in castles" He took the action figures and threw them out of the castle with attitude. "The Hulk would tear it down with his fits…..don't you know?"

John laughed. Now that Sherlock was getting comfortable he could see the attitude he had. "Of course…..what was I thinking?" John asked as he resumed putting Legos onto the castle.

Sherlock and John spent the rest of the morning building an elaborate castle, with a drawbridge and surrounding mote made out of a blue baby blanket ("because a castle has to have a mote!"), the plastic tub toy sharks half way across the room from where Sherlock had thrown them after John had tried to put them in the mote ("Sharks aren't in motes! They go in the ocean!"). Sherlock was so immersed in it that John tried to slip away quietly a few hours later to try to find something to make for lunch.

John was almost out of the door when Sherlock looked up from his castle. "Where are you going?" he asked curiously.

"I'm going to go make some lunch" John said. "What would you like for lunch?"

Sherlock sighed dramatically. "I don't want lunch…..we just ate" he said.

"Well, its afternoon now and you need lunch" John said.

"Fine" Sherlock huffed, throwing a Lego on the ground.

"Do you want anything particular for lunch?" John asked, hoping he could get Sherlock excited about eating something.

"I don't want anything" Sherlock said, leaning over his castle and beginning to be fully immersed in his work again.

John slipped out of the room while Sherlock was playing and went to the kitchen. He puttered around the kitchen looking for something to eat in the meager supplies, making a mental note to go to the store as soon as he could. Not feeling like making too much of fuss over lunch, John made some sandwiches before going to get Sherlock from his room. John smiled at the sight he saw when he poked his head back in the bedroom. Sherlock was leaning over the Lego castle, Hulk figure in hand, making loud growling noises as he smashed the figure into parts of the castle busting them apart. John had to admit that playing with Sherlock all morning had been a lot more fun than he had imagined. He might have stood there for a long time, simply watching Sherlock engaged in play if he had not turned around and noticed him. His cheeks turned a little red as he dropped the figure, suddenly shy.

"Come on, castle builder" John said. "Time for lunch"

"Aw…..do I have to?" Sherlock asked whiningly. "I'm not hungry….and I want to play"

"You can play after you eat lunch and have a nap" John said firmly. He had been waiting for a long time for the opportunity to make sure that Sherlock took proper care of himself and he was going to take full advantage of it.

"A nap?" Sherlock said, his eyes widening. "I don't really have to take a nap, do I?"

"You most certainly do" John said firmly. Sherlock was the one that said he wanted a firm hand and he would do his best to make good on that. "And I don't want to hear any arguing either"

Sherlock opened his mouth as if to argue but then closed it. John though it was nothing short of a miracle, Sherlock without a snappy comeback.

"Come on" John said, motioning toward him as he walked toward the kitchen, Sherlock following with the patter of footed pyjamed feet.


	6. Naughty Sherlock

John smiled as he looked at Sherlock fast asleep, clutching his blankie tightly to his chest. After begrudgingly eating his lunch, Sherlock had begun to argue about taking a nap. His whining had gotten louder and louder, proving to John even more that he did need a nap and John had eventually settled him into bed and left him to tire out himself. That had only been 10 minutes ago and Sherlock was already fast asleep. He was obviously still exhausted from the previous few weeks and John knew that even if "little" Sherlock didn't know it.

John turned and left Sherlock asleep in his room, the flat seeming eerily quiet and boring without Sherlock's madness going on. He cleaned up a major portion of the mess in the kitchen before he heard his mobile ringing and got to it to answer on the last ring.

"Hello" John said, tossing a wet towel over his shoulder as he walked into the living room to sit down in his chair.

"Hey, John, how are you doing?" Stamford's voice came cheerily on the other end. "Haven't heard from you in a while"

"Things are going pretty well" John said truthfully. "Work was a little slow for a while but then Sherlock and I got a pretty intense case that's kept us busy these past few weeks."

"I trust it'll be all on your blog" Stamford said. He was always one of John's top readers to his blog.

"Yeah, yeah I'll get it up on there eventually" John said. "Sherlock and I are kind of recuperating from it all now."

"I'm not surprised, what with all that danger you put yourself in" Stamford said knowingly. "I think I might have something that will help you relax a little bit"

"Yeah? What's that?" John asked.

"I was thinking you could meet me for drinks at the pub" Stamford said. "I've got someone I want you to meet…..I think she's perfect for you"

"That sounds good, but I really can't do it tonight" John said quickly.

"Really? Already got plans?"

"Yeah, actually I do" John said. After he had said it, he paused. The only thing in the way of plans he had going on tonight was watching movies with Sherlock. He wasn't sure why he had been so quick to turn down the offer.

"Oh, well, maybe next time" Stamford said. "Have a nice time relaxing and recuperating from your case alright?"

After John had hung up the phone, he sat in his chair, confusion dawning on him. Why had he just done that? He had just turned down drinks and a date with an actual woman (something he had not had for a long time, far too long) to stay home and watch movies with Sherlock. For what felt like the millionth time since he found out about Sherlock's littleness he wondered what in the world was wrong with him.  
….

If anyone would have told John that he would have considered watching cartoons with Sherlock a good Saturday night, he would have laughed in their face. But John felt more relaxed and happy at the end of this day than he had in a long time.

John watched Sherlock from the corner of his eye, sitting next to him on the couch. He had changed his footed pyjamas in favor of a t-shirt and pyjama pants with rocket ships on them (something John found very ironic considering Sherlock's view of the solar system). He reluctantly had bathed himself, since John had not offered to do it yet and Sherlock had kept his promise to not push him. John couldn't help but notice the wonderfully babyish scent that came from him, a mixture of lavender shampoo and baby lotion, one that was not like him normally but one that fit him perfectly. He had exchange his dummy for his thumb, which was planted firmly in his mouth. When a funny part of the movie would come on, he was laugh behind his thumb, never taking it out.

John felt the now becoming familiar twinge he got at the sight of Sherlock so innocent and little. He remembered the warm, fuzziness he'd felt last night at as Sherlock had sat on his lap, as he had pulled him close to himself. Something inside him desired to have that again and he didn't understand it; all of this littleness was supposed to be for Sherlock's benefit.

John looked over to Sherlock; even though they had spent the entire day playing and being silly he still felt nervous at initiating physical contact. His heart was beating a little faster as he considered pulling him to himself. Blimey…..he really should have taken Stamford up on his offer.

Sherlock's legs were pulled up to his chest, his blankie tucked between them, his head on his knees as he watched the movie. John felt sweaty and nervous which was ridiculous and he was just thankful that while Sherlock was in his littleness he didn't seem to have his powers of observation that he normally did. If he did, he didn't make it known, for which John was glad for.

John spurred himself into action before he could stop and think too much about it. He scooted closer to Sherlock, so that they were touching, before tilting his head so that it rested against Sherlock's. He felt a little trepidation at it but was glad when he felt Sherlock move into the touch.

"Did you have a good day, baby?" John asked. He hoped that he was living up to some of Sherlock's expectations at being cared for. He had no idea how long he might have wanted this and he hoped that he was not complete rubbish at being "daddy" because he had no experience at this.

Sherlock, however, showed that he was still just as sharp even as a 'baby'. "Daddy…..do you want to hold me?" he asked in a sweet, knowing tone.

The little bastard knows…..John thought with a laugh. He should have known better than to think he could hide something from Sherlock, little or big. He felt his cheeks burn and he was glad that Sherlock at least couldn't see that. "I'd like to hold you if you want me to" John said to save himself from seeming desperate.

Sherlock turned and gave John a wide smile, finally pulling his thumb from his mouth. He didn't seem at all bothered by taking the lead; he crawled willingly in John's lap, tucking his legs as much as possible onto John's lap, leaning into John's chest. He put his head on John's shoulder, replacing his thumb as he relaxed into the touch. John didn't think that it was decent how happy it made him, how calm he felt at this touch that would have seemed completely foreign to him days ago.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, feeling a deep sigh of relaxation go through him. His nervousness calmed instantly and his heart, which he was sure Sherlock's attuned ears could hear, was slowing down its erratic beating. He looked down at Sherlock, wondering how he had gotten fortunate enough to see Sherlock in this way that no one else got to. His thumb stuck deeply in his mouth, sucking forcefully and making a cute slurping noise, saliva covering more and more of his thumb, his hair smelling delightfully light. John tilted his own head toward Sherlock's and began to run his fingers through his newly cleaned locks. Sherlock sighed contently, sounding much like a purr as a satisfied tremble went through him. Sherlock's eyes closed as he leaned into John's hand, seeming to coax John's hand the way he wanted it to go and John was convinced that he could have easily stay this way until Sherlock went to sleep.

"I had a very nice day today" Sherlock said quietly, finally answering the question that John had asked. "I am very happy" Sherlock moved his face into the crook of John's neck, nuzzling against it contently. John was sure that Sherlock was aware of the goose bumps that sprang up against his skin at the intimate touch.

"If you're happy, I'm happy" John said, squeezing Sherlock in a half hug to his chest. "I want to do whatever I can to make my baby happy" The idea of Sherlock being his baby should have been completely foreign. He didn't even really like kids and to want a kid, especially an adult one, should have seemed strange to him. But right now it seemed as normal as if it had always been this way. John was glad that he had chosen this as his night's entertainment over the other options he'd had. Strange…..

"I'm glad you're my daddy" Sherlock said, nuzzling against John still, exuding the essence of happiness. It was the happiest that John had ever seen Sherlock. The idea of making Sherlock feel completely safe and happy and cared for, hearing him call him daddy, which meant he was his provider and protector, made what was left of John's heart melt completely.  
….

John woke the next morning, his eyes opening willingly and almost happy to greet the day. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, stretching and feeling completely rested for once. No nightmares, no waking in the night; much like the previous night's good rest. With a smile, John looked to the spot in bed beside him, finding an indent in the mattress but no little Sherlock. He hated to admit it, but that was the reason he had slept so soundly. Had someone posed the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock, he would have written it off completely. Had someone told him that it would have made the night terrors and uneasy sleep dissipate, he would have been more than willing to listen.

John got out of bed, interested to see what Sherlock was into. The flat was quiet which wasn't necessarily a good thing for little or big Sherlock. John walked to the bathroom before seeking Sherlock out. He stopped in his tracks as he walked into the bathroom and found that Sherlock was already there.  
Sherlock was on the floor of the bathroom on his knees, leaning over the toilet, looking at something in it intently. The smile on his face and the way he sat gave John a good inkling that Sherlock was still in his little state.

"Sherlock…..what are you doing?" John asked.

"A 'speriment" Sherlock said with a mischievous look on his face.

"What kind of an experiment?" John asked warily, quite sure he didn't want to know what kind of an experiment had to do with the toilet.

"I wanted to see if it would float" Sherlock said, pointing to the toilet.

Feeling his unease grow, John looked into the toilet and felt his anger rise up in him white hot. His mobile was in the toilet….clearly not floating.

"Sherlock! What the hell!?" John thundered as he looked at his phone and then back at Sherlock. Sherlock flinched at his words and shrunk down a little at John's tone and anger.

"I…..I was just playing" Sherlock said, frowning slightly." What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You broke my bloody phone….again!" John said, anger boiling inside him. He couldn't even count the amount of mobiles that he had he had to replace because of Sherlock's 'experiments'.

"I…I…..it's not broken" Sherlock said, scooping the phone out of the toilet. "It didn't float…but I didn't break it"

"Oh, yeah? Not broken? Press the button and see if it works" John said, folding his arms.

Sherlock pressed the button but nothing happened. He looked up at John and gave him a nervous smile. "Oops…" he said innocently.

It was then that John realized that this was a test. Sherlock was doing this to test him. He could do what he normally did, get angry and then cave or he could do what Sherlock said he really wanted and take control of the situation. He'd never done it before but he thought of all the times that he had wanted to really make Sherlock pay for something he'd done with complete lack of care about John's feelings or possessions.

Realizing all this, John forced his anger from rage into an authoritative tone. "Sherlock, you took something that did not belong to you and that was very bad" he said, giving Sherlock a disapproving scowl. "You took something of mine you were not supposed to and you knew that"

Sherlock gave John a saddened look as he crumpled under the admonishment. "But I didn't mean to break it" he argued.

"That does not change the fact that you're not supposed to take something that belongs to me" John said harshly.

"But…..but daddy…I wanted to play with it" Sherlock said giving John an innocent look. Looking quite adorable actually. Another test; he wanted to see if John would cave under a few batted eyes or if he would take a firm stand. If he gave in now, Sherlock would only act out more.

"Are you arguing with me?" John asked in the best version of what Sherlock had called his 'captain's voice'.

"No" Sherlock said, putting his lip further out in a pout. He was really trying to look innocent (and doing a good job of it) but it wasn't going to work.

"Stand up" John said firmly, looking down at Sherlock.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, his eyes getting wide with fear for the first time since the encounter.

At Sherlock's question, John leaned down and took the hand that Sherlock held his phone in. Taking out the phone, John smacked Sherlock's hand, earning a gasp. "When I tell you to do something, I don't want you to question me. Stand up" John said, looking Sherlock in the eye.

"B-but….what are you going to d-do?" Sherlock asked in fear.

John smacked Sherlock's hand again, this time much harder. Sherlock gasped in pain, surprising tears coming to his eyes. "I should NOT have to repeat myself" John said angrily. He gave Sherlock's hand another hard smack as he took his hand and pulled him up. Genuine fear filled Sherlock's eyes and he seemed to shrink down in age even more. "I…..I'm sorry, daddy" Sherlock said hastily. "Really, I'm sorry." His free hand went to cover his backside and John realized what he thought he was going to do.

But as cute as Sherlock was really being, John was still really mad at him for taking his phone and throwing it in the toilet…..again. John moved Sherlock's hand out of the way and smacked his backside, making Sherlock jump and whimper slightly. It gave John a sense of power and authority as Sherlock crumpled under his punishment. It was not a feeling he was used to but one that he had to admit that he was enjoying.

"I'm glad you're sorry but that does not mean you're not going to get punished" John said, not accepting Sherlock's apology as genuine. Kids often apologized on the verge of punishment as a way to get out of the consequences of their actions. He knew it was no different for this big kid.

John pulled Sherlock toward his bedroom, his head hanging in shame. When they got to Sherlock's room, John gave Sherlock another good smack to the rear before giving him a gentle push onto his bed. When Sherlock looked up at him, crocodile tears collecting at the corners of his eyes before spilling down his face, John had to admit that he felt a little guilty. But he shoved it down quickly, knowing deep down this was what Sherlock had said he wanted. Besides, he was still angry.

"Sherlock, what you did was wrong" John said, looking down at Sherlock in his best admonishing voice. "You knew better than to take my things and you did it anyway and then you tried to argue with me. That is absolutely not okay with me. You are going to sit here and think about what you did. I absolutely do not want you to move from this spot until I tell you so, am I understood?"

Sherlock looked up at John, his lip quivering and tears fresh in his eyes. He nodded soberly and John knew he had Sherlock's attention so he said what he knew would undo the little detective. "I am so disappointed in you, Sherlock" he said, shaking his head. As he left Sherlock in his time out, he could hear Sherlock dissolve into sobs, burying his face into the bed.

John walked back to the living room, sitting in his chair as he looked at his now useless phone. He tossed it on the table, not looking forward to having to go to the store and get yet another one. He could hear the sound of Sherlock loudly crying from his room and it helped his anger melt away. He didn't like to hear Sherlock crying; until two days ago it was a sound that he had never heard before. But it was sad, heart wrenching…even worse when he knew that he was the one that had caused it. He had always wanted to give Sherlock a piece of his mind when he did something like this, but he was finding that it wasn't as satisfying as he had once thought it would be. Still, he knew he had to do it. He didn't know much about being a 'parent' but he knew that a good parent didn't let misbehavior simply slide. Despite that fact, John fought the urge to go back to Sherlock's room and let him out of his time out without really serving any time.

John turned the telly on, flipping through channels and not really watching anything. He made himself wait for a half hour before he went back to Sherlock's room. He had heard the sound of Sherlock's tears gradually tapper off and wondered how he was doing. Sherlock didn't occupy himself well and john was sure that when he opened the door he would find Sherlock in direct defiance of John's order to stay put. John couldn't image that he could stay sitting still for a half hour whether little or big. He hoped he didn't have to turn into the 'mean captain' again but he would if he had to.


	7. Nappytime

John opened the door of Sherlock's bedroom and found Sherlock, surprisingly still sitting on his bed. He was sitting cross legged, his blankie on his lap, his face still red from crying. Tears were still on his face though he was gasping for breath as he regained control after his crying spell. John knew that despite how much he didn't show it, Sherlock did crave his approval. To tell Sherlock that he was disappointed in him hurt him very deeply. Maybe that would make a lasting impression but John had an inkling that it was going to take a few more of these incidents before it would really stick with Sherlock.

Sherlock realized that John had opened the door and he looked up at him with red eyes. He didn't say anything, just looked toward John waiting for him to say something. John walked into the room and sat down on the bed beside Sherlock. Sherlock's lip was beginning to quiver as he looked at John.

"Sherlock…..do you know why I put you in time out?" John asked, his voice firm but caring.

Sherlock nodded. "Because I broke your phone when I wasn't even supposed to touch it" he said sadly, looking down at his lap.

John smiled a little inside ; Sherlock's shame and regret seemed almost real. "What should you have done?" he asked.

Sherlock looked down at his lap before looking at John again. "I should have left your things alone….I should have played only with my toys until you woke up" he said regretfully.

John nodded. "That's right…do you have anything else to say about what you did?" Honestly John would be glad when this punishment would be over. Sherlock just looked so pitiful…

Sherlock's lip quivered in such a way that made John want to gather Sherlock into his arms for a deep hug. "I'm sorry, daddy" he said in the saddest tone that he could possibly produce. And he really did seem sorry; John felt like it was genuine even though Sherlock was good at playing emotions.

"It's alright, baby" John said, gladly pulling Sherlock into a hug. Sherlock hugged him back tightly, just as glad for the touch. John craved this soft, warm touch of Sherlock; he needed it deeply and he couldn't believe that only a few days ago he didn't even know it.

"It's okay, Sherlock….next time, just make a better choice, alright? You're really smart Sherlock, you just need to do the right thing" John said reassuringly as he rubbed his hand along Sherlock's back. When he pulled back, Sherlock was giving him a small smile. "I'll try" Sherlock said softly.

John gave him a reassuring smile. "That's a good boy" he said. He gave Sherlock's arm a pat. "Let's go get some breakfast, alright?"

John started to get off of the bed but he hesitated when Sherlock didn't move and he saw the look on his face. Sherlock's cheeks burned red and he looked down at his lap.

"What's wrong?" John asked, sensing that Sherlock had something that he wanted, or rather needed, to say.

"Well…I…..I….." Sherlock said guilty but he couldn't seem to finish. John was sure that he had gotten into some kind of mischief while he'd been in time out and John hoped that he didn't have to scold him again.

"What is it?" John gently prodded so that Sherlock would tell him. He was already uneasy about whatever it was already.

Sherlock looked at his lap again, his cheeks turning even a darker shade of red. He moved his blankie out of the way and then John could see the problem in vivid detail. Sherlock's crouch and upper thighs were wet in a very distinct pattern. John began to understand that Sherlock was feeling much littler today that he was yesterday.

"Sherlock…..why didn't you go to the bathroom?" John asked, a sigh escaping him. The sight of Sherlock, having wet himself, would have shocked him a few days ago. Now it made complete sense.

Sherlock blushed and he couldn't look at John directly. His thumb moved toward his mouth as if he wanted to suck on it but then thought better of it. While he'd been more of what John would guess as a preschool age yesterday, he was acting more like a toddler today. "You…..you told me not to move from this spot, daddy" Sherlock said innocently.

Finally, he couldn't resist the urge to suck his thumb as he stuck it deeply in his mouth.

Sherlock looked so innocent, so ready to please. As John looked at his wet trousers, he felt a pang of guilt. Deep down, he knew that Sherlock was a grown man that should have went to the bathroom regardless, but he knew that Sherlock in his 'littleness' hadn't went to the bathroom because he was trying to make John happy by obeying what he wanted him to do. The fact of that made John feel extremely guilty.

"But you could have called for me" John said, moving closer to Sherlock. "I would have come"

Sherlock flinched slightly, holding his blankie tightly to him. "I didn't really know…..til I felt my pants get wet" he said, embarrassed.

John realized just how "young" Sherlock was right now. He also realized this was another test and when he realized what kind, he felt his stomach twist nervously. It was a test that he wanted to pass but one that he didn't know yet if he was fully ready for it.

"You couldn't stop it? Couldn't hold it in?" John asked sitting next to Sherlock on the bed. Sherlock looked at him shyly, putting his blankie to his mouth as he shook his head.

"It just came out" Sherlock said innocently. The punishment had obviously served to push him down into a lower headspace.

"Sounds like my big boy isn't quite ready for pants yet" John said, his own stomach twisting at the revelation.

"I'm not a big boy yet?" Sherlock asked, looking down at his wet pyjama bottoms.

"Not quite yet" John said giving Sherlock an easy smile. "But that's alright….you can be my baby a little longer, right?"

Sherlock smiled behind his blankie. "Yeah" he said shyly before replacing his thumb in his mouth.

With definite nerves, John stood up and made his way over to Sherlock's closet. He located Sherlock's tubs of babyish items and pulled them out, looking for the item that he desired but one that scared him a little bit. Once he had located the chosen items, John walked back to the bed where Sherlock was sitting, apparently uncomfortable, on the bed in his wet trousers and pants, watching John.

John steeled himself up for this; he had known it was coming but he had not thought that it would be coming yet. He didn't want to let Sherlock know how apprehensive he was about putting a nappy on him; he wanted it to be a positive experience for him even though John didn't know how he felt about it. John was a doctor and he knew well the mechanics of a putting a nappy on someone; his days as an intern had made sure of that. But this was a far different experience than that. This wasn't some stranger that John didn't know, one that had to wear nappies because they had no choice. This was Sherlock, his friend, his flat mate, who wanted to wear nappies just because he liked it. To do this, John would have to see Sherlock naked, something that made him squirm with nervousness.

But as John looked down at Sherlock, who was gazing at him with such trust and openness, John felt embarrassed. If Sherlock had enough courage to be this open with him then he should have the same courage to do that same with him. Sherlock was putting himself in an extremely vulnerable place and John shouldn't be letting his own adult, slightly homophobic thoughts be getting in the way. This was all about trust and that was simply amazing that Sherlock trusted him that much.

"Okay…..let's get my little boy out of those wet pants" John said with more courage than he felt. When he smiled, Sherlock took his thumb from his mouth and smiled back at him. Sherlock lay back on his bed, one hand clutching his blankie. He looked up at John with trust, his cheeks flushing red slightly, betraying his own deep down embarrassment at the moment. They both knew that in this part of their relationship this moment meant a lot as to how much trust they could exchange.

John paused as he looked down at the little form of his flat mate turned little boy. His heart was beating quickly from nervousness but he wanted to take care of Sherlock the way that he needed so badly. He grabbed Sherlock's pyjama pants by the waist band and tugged them down, pulling them completely off and tossing them into a wet heap on the floor. John's hands paused for several seconds at Sherlock's pants, his nerves getting the better of him. He had just begun to tug them down when he heard Mrs. Hudson's voice call out through the flat.

"Sherlock! John!" She called. When they didn't answer she called again, her voice getting closer. John's eyes darted to the open bedroom door and he panicked slightly. The last thing they needed Mrs. Hudson was to find John taking Sherlock's pants off. She already got the wrong impression about them. This incident might make things more than a little uncomfortable.

John looked down at Sherlock who was craning his neck toward the door in his vulnerable position. "I'll be right back, alright?" John asked Sherlock, wishing Mrs. Hudson hadn't chosen this exact moment to come calling. Sherlock gave him a shy nod and John walked quickly toward the door.

John burst out of the door, shutting it behind him. Mrs. Hudson was feet from the door and John could feel himself begin to sweat in nervousness. "Morning" John said, trying to sound as casual as he could.

Mrs. Hudson seemed to notice that something was not quite right here as she stared back at Sherlock's door but she didn't comment on it. "Good morning John" she said cordially. "I wanted to know if you and Sherlock had any plans for tonight. I'm having a dinner party, inviting over some friends, and thought you'd like to come"

"No…..no we've got plans already" John said quickly.

"Really?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Well, that's a shame. Are you sure you can't come even for a little bit? I know Sherlock might not want to, what with how he is around a lot of people. But can't you come for a little bit?"

"No…..sorry" John said. "Maybe next time?"

"Sure" Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him seriously. "John, are you alright? You're acting a little strange"

"I'm fine…..really I'm fine" John said. In all honesty he was wondering why he had turned down her offer. It could be reasoned that he had done it because he had just wanted to stay in all day and take care of Sherlock. But he didn't want that to be the reason that he had done it.

"Okay" Mrs. Hudson said, obviously not believing it. "Well, then, I'll see you later then I suppose"

"Alright…..have a nice day, Mrs. Hudson" John said as he watched her leave. Once she'd left, Jon slipped back into Sherlock's room, closing the door behind him, just in case.  
Sherlock was still laying down on the bed, his face sad looking as he clutched the blankie to him. "I'm cold and wet" he whined in a pitiful voice when John returned. "Fix it, daddy"

John's heart melted again; if Sherlock kept acting like this, then his heart might forever be a puddle of mush. He knew he'd denied Mrs. Hudson's invite because he was eager to spend time with Sherlock. It was the same reason he'd turned down Stamford's invite last night. This new part of Sherlock was comforting; it fulfilled some deep need he had inside of him. He wanted to discover more and more of it even if he didn't understand why. He had come to the conclusion that he didn't need to know why; he just needed to go with it. It's not like he had to explain it to anyone else. And honestly, he couldn't imagine what he wanted to do more right now than make Sherlock feel better. He might have been his annoying, overbearing flat mate but when he called John daddy, he had him wrapped around his sneaky little finger.

"I can definitely fix it" John said, looking down at Sherlock with a smile. He hoped Sherlock couldn't tell he was nervous, couldn't tell his palms were sweating and his heart beating fast. He was a little relieved when he noticed Sherlock's small blush had returned as John's hands went to his pants. John knew his own cheeks were burning.  
With slightly shaky fingers John pulled Sherlock's pants off, tossing them over with the wet pyjamas. His blush deepening despite the fact that this shouldn't have been embarrassing on his part, John reached for the wipes. The tension was almost too much for him as he took the baby wipes and began to wipe Sherlock off from his accident before putting the diaper on him and he was glad when little Sherlock broke the tension of the moment.

"That tickles!" Sherlock said as he gave a cute laugh.

John laughed and that made it infinity easier to do this. "Well, I've got to clean you up" he said, finishing up wiping Sherlock off.

"But it's cold!" Sherlock said with a giggle, holding his blanket into his face.

"We're almost done" John said with a smile, feeling better about this by the minuet. He wasn't quite sure why he'd been so nervous about this in the first place. Had Sherlock been acting like his normal, adult self it would have been terribly awkward. But as he acted now, silly and, he had to admit, cute , it wasn't like that.

John took the diaper out, Sherlock lifting up slightly so John could put in under his bum. John took the bottle of baby powder; he'd meant to only put a sprinkling but when he opened it, it exploded, leaving a cloud of white, sweet smelling powder in the air. John looked at Sherlock as they both broke into laughter at the sight. John was glad there was more than one thing to break the tension in the air.

A few minutes later John had fastened the diaper tightly around Sherlock. "Does that feel better for my baby?" he asked, giving Sherlock's stomach a small tickle.

Sherlock laughed . "Much better…..not cold or wet anymore" he said childishly. For a second, as he looked up at John, John could see the adult peek through Sherlock's childish exterior. He could see in his eyes how much what he had done meant to Sherlock. He'd likely wanted this for a long time; he trusted John with all parts of him completely. And John was thankful that he had been the one to be able to give it to him.

The adultness was only there for a second before Sherlock dissolved into babyness again. He sat up and grabbed John around the legs, giving him an awkward sort of hug.

"Thanks, daddy" he said in that heart melting tone.

John hugged him back as best he could. "No problem at all Sherlock" he said, meaning it whole heartily.


	8. Grow Up

Over the next few weeks, John found himself indulging Sherlock's little side more than he had ever thought he would. In the beginning he had thought of this as something to do every once in a while to make Sherlock feel safe and cared for but now it was becoming as much a part of their relationship as their work was. They had cases and work to do; they kept plenty busy. In these moments it was almost easy to forget that they had this small, secret part of their life that no one knew about. Once the cases were solved and Sherlock's mind was free of its hell bent need to solve things, they would resume their "little" experiment. John was learning quickly what Sherlock liked and didn't like. He was learning also that Sherlock had been right to warn him; the incident with the phone had not been the only punishment that he'd been forced to give Sherlock. But as much as it hurt John, and as much as Sherlock cried, he craved the punishments and John's forceful hand. He enjoyed the older man taking charge; John had noticed even when Sherlock was "big" he was more likely to listen to John's advice and leading now.

One day, weeks later, John found himself in the grocery store getting some much needed supplies before going home. He and Sherlock had just closed a case this morning, one that had taken them a good two weeks to finish and they had agreed that tonight would be a "little" night. John had seen the way Sherlock's eyes lit up at the idea and John had to admit excitement bristled inside him as well. It still wasn't easy to admit to himself how much he enjoyed this but he knew after two weeks of no littleness at all he was craving that attention with Sherlock.

John had gotten almost everything that he needed to restore their dwindling food supplies when he found himself walking down the aisle with the baby items. Before Sherlock's little coming out, John would have walked right by these items without a second glance. Now, he found himself staring at them like an idiot. That man had ruined him in more ways than one…

John was about to walk away when he spotted a bright blue dummy with a pirate on it. It was too perfect, too Sherlock to pass up. John smiled as he took the dummy off the peg and tossed it into his cart, walking down the aisle to get the last of the things he needed, excited to give Sherlock his little gift when he got home.

As he was rounding the corner into the next aisle, John's cart collided with another. He was sputtering apologies when he looked up and realized who it was that he had crashed into. He smiled.

"Sarah…..hey" John said, smiling at his former girlfriend. As with everyone he had dated since meeting Sherlock, things hadn't worked out between them. But it hadn't been a nasty break and they had often spoken since, even gone out a few times since. He was always glad to see her.

"Hey, John" Sarah said, smiling broadly as she recognized who she had bumped into. "Long time, no see. Keeping busy, I assume? Sherlock keeping you busy?" she asked with a laugh.

John blushed a little, thinking of just how Sherlock had kept him busy and chided himself. "Yeah…..as always" he said a bit shy. "London's criminals always giving him a run for his money. What about you?"

Sarah gave a tired laugh. "Work, always working. We've been short staffed for a couple of weeks and I've been filling in more than I'd like to."

"Doesn't ever stop does it?" John asked with a smile.

"No" she said with a grin. "I'd love to catch up with you sometime, maybe over dinner?"

"Sure" John said, suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing Sarah again. "That would be great"

"How about tonight?" Sarah asked. "I've actually got it off….first day I've had off in a week"

"Yeah…..that'd be nice" John said. "Anywhere particular that you'd like to go?"

"How about that Italian place you like?" Sarah asked. "Then we could do a movie at my place if you'd like?"

John smiled; that was what he liked about Sarah. Things were always easy with her, always fun. Even without the technical terms of dating they still could have fun. "That sounds really nice" John said grinning. "Is seven good for you?"

"Yeah, that's good" Sarah said with a grin. "See you then"

John walked up to the register with a too-goofy grin on his face. It wasn't until he was unloading his items and saw the pirate dummy that he remembered that he had already promised to spend the evening with Sherlock. His hand was scooping his mobile out of his pocket to call Sarah and tell her that he couldn't make it when he forced himself to stop. Ever since he had started to indulge Sherlock's little side, he had spent every minute of his free time with him. He had declined so many invites and ignored everyone else around him. Part of him really wanted to turn down Sarah's invite in favor of spending the night with Sherlock. His rational mind though screamed at him not to. This was not healthy, spending nearly all of his time with Sherlock, even abandoning his dating life to spend time with his flat mate. John returned his phone to his pocket. No…..he needed to go on this date. One night away from Sherlock wouldn't hurt either of them; he'd simply reschedule their little playdate. A date would do him some good.

….

John emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready for his date with Sarah, surprised that Sherlock still wasn't home. He'd been prepared to tell Sherlock that they would have to wait until tomorrow for their previous plans but Sherlock had not been at the flat and he hadn't returned yet either.

As John grabbed his coat and began to put it on, he noticed the pirate dummy he'd bought for Sherlock sitting on the table and felt a pang of guilt. He should have just been happy about going out on a date; Sherlock should have been the last thing on his mind. But, even though he tried to ignore it, he did feel guilty. After all, he had made plans with Sherlock before he'd agree to see Sarah and it wasn't really fair to cancel on him. There was a part of him, a big part of him that felt like he'd rather stay in with Sherlock anyway. John shook his head at the thought; he really was enjoying how much closer he and Sherlock were getting. But he was also more than a little alarmed at the dependence they were beginning to develop. Getting closer was one thing but he hadn't gotten to the point that he didn't even see anyone else anymore and he didn't think that was healthy. If he was honest with himself, he was beginning to be afraid of his feelings. Not because Sherlock's feelings and dependence on him was alarming him but because he was embracing it whole heartily.

John turned away from the dummy to rid himself of the troubling thoughts. He was going to have fun tonight and he wasn't going to feel guilty. Sherlock could wait one more day without it hurting anything. With a quick text message to Sherlock about where he was going, John was out the door, determined not to give it a second thought.

….

"Don't you think you better answer that?" Sarah asked in amusement as John's phone buzzed for the 10th time that night. She knew exactly who was on the other end and unlike other women John had gone out with, it didn't seem to bother her.

"No….it's best to just ignore him" John said as he settled down into a more comfortable position on the couch as they watched the movie on the telly. Honestly, John didn't want to see what Sherlock had to say. He had continued to have that terrible sense of guilt, only increased by every time his phone vibrated. It was absurd; he should have been able to enjoy a few hours away from Sherlock undisturbed.

Sarah was leaning back against John but she moved when his phone went off yet again. She turned around and looked back at John. "Just answer it" she said with a laugh, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to him. "It's alright, really"

It's not alright…..John thought uncomfortably but he glanced at it anyway. A series of texts filled his phone screen.

_John? Where are you?_

_John…we had plans. Where are you?_

_Answer your phone, John!_

_John? Why aren't you answering your phone?_

John's stomach twisted as he sent a text back to him.

_Sherlock, I told you I was going out with Sarah. I'll be home after a while, okay?_

John put his phone back in his pocket with a smile. "There…that should be better" he said as they relaxed back into their positions. Two minutes later John's phone buzzed again.

"Well, Sherlock is just as persistent as ever, isn't he?" Sarah asked amused, her eyes still on the telly.

"Persistent is a word you could use, though I could think of another word" John said, looking at his phone in annoyance.

_You're supposed to be with me…..you said we were going to play tonight_

John didn't need Sherlock's persistence pushing him; he already was nearly on the edge of doing something stupid like just go back home and make a complete arse of himself in front of Sarah.

_Yes, I know I did. I'm sorry but we'll do it tomorrow._

John hadn't even gotten his phone back into his pocket when he felt it vibrate again.

_Come home now…daddy._

John's stomach twisted with guilt and fear. He simultaneously felt the need to go back to Sherlock, to his baby, and the need to put as much distance between them as possible. His feelings were so strong they scared him.

John turned his phone off completely and turned his attention toward the telly and Sarah. "Everything alright?" Sarah asked as she leaned into John. John put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Yes…..everything's fine" John lied with a smile on his face as he tried to move his thoughts away from what was home at 221B.

…..

John's thoughts were muddled in a delightful way as his heart beat quickly. When he heard a phone ringing, he barely registered it and neither he nor Sarah stopped long enough to acknowledge it. His lips moved quickly, almost frantically as his hands moved under her shirt. She gasped slightly against his lips and her hands went to his belt, making him feel almost like he was going to explode. He always had a good time with Sarah.

Sarah's phone stopped ringing for a fraction of second before it began to ring. John was just happy it wasn't his and was glad that she didn't stop to answer it. Her hands made quick work of his belt and trousers, painfully breaking their contact for a second as she pulled his trouser off him. His lips found hers again within a second as his hands began to pull her shirt over her head.

When her phone rang for the third time, she pulled back breathlessly. "I better answer that" she said. "Make sure it's not something important."

"Okay" John said, gasping for air himself, his body giving an almost ache as their contact was broken. He didn't want to stop but he knew that she was right; surely anyone that called three times in less than two minutes probably needed something important.

"Hello?" Sarah asked as she forced her voice to sound normal. Her brow quickly furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Sarah paused for a long moment before she turned and handed the phone to John. "It's for you" she said in annoyance.

John felt confusion pass over him. "Me?" he asked.

"It's Sherlock" Sarah said, pushing the phone into John's hand.

Annoyance rose in John like a wave; he had turned his phone off to avoid Sherlock and now he was calling Sarah's phone? Couldn't he have anything? Couldn't he even have one night to himself without being interrupted?

"Sherlock? What the hell?" John asked, seething. "What are you doing calling Sarah's phone?"

"I had to…..you wouldn't answer yours" Sherlock said somewhat shyly on the other end.

"I told you I was on a date" John said, trying not to scream but finding it hard not to. "Believe it or not, I don't want to talk to you while I'm on a date" The fact that they were even having this conversation while he was without trousers was ridiculous.

"But John, you promised me we would play tonight…..the case was done. I want you here" Sherlock said, his voice falling more and more into his little voice.

Normally Sherlock's little voice was enough to make John melt into a puddle of mush but this time he didn't. Now, he was just angry. "I know I said that but Sarah asked me out and I wanted to see her and it's just one night for Pete's sakes!" John burst out.

"John…..please come home" Sherlock begged, his little and vulnerable.

"No!" John said irritably. He had been so convinced to come home but now he was just annoyed. He wanted to be with Sherlock but the need was feeling a little suffocating and a little scary. He just wanted to go back to just feeling and not thinking with Sarah; he wanted to go back to something he understood.

"But daddy…" Sherlock whined in his best little voice.

John's heart started to melt but he fought it. His emotions were so mixed up and he couldn't take it. He felt guilt and fear and unreasonable missing Sherlock; all that combined with his current annoyance and frustrated arousal made him explode.

"No! Sherlock, I'm on a date and I'll come home when I'm good and ready! Can you just grow up?!"

John regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth but he knew that he couldn't take it back. John heard a muffled sob a second before Sherlock hung up. He immediately tried to redial Sherlock's number but it went automatically to voicemail.

"John….are you okay? Is something wrong?" Sarah asked gently, her anger melted away at seeing John's crestfallen expression.

John's stomach was churning with guilt as he looked down at his lap. He forced himself to wipe the sadness off his face as he looked back up Sarah. "Of course I'm fine" he lied. He forced a smile as he moved closer to her. "I don't think Sherlock will be bothering us anymore tonight" John leaned in towards Sarah, his lips meeting hers, trying to force his mind to forget the incident with Sherlock. Though his body cooperated quite willingly, his mind was not so easily changed.


End file.
